


underneath a blanket in a house fire

by MusicalDefiance



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Blood and Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Regret, Sexual Content, Suicide, Unresolved Feelings, garbageland series spinoff, hints of pegoryu, this is pretty mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22446175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalDefiance/pseuds/MusicalDefiance
Summary: Trapped for what's felt like weeks in a Metaverse-like hell hole after the destruction of Shido's palace, Ryuji and Akechi's frustrations with their situation, and especially each other, finally come to a head.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	underneath a blanket in a house fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flywood](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Flywood).



> Please mind the tags. This is a very tragic story with a terrible end and is not at all intended for the faint of heart.
> 
> Small contextual notes, this is essentially an alternate ending to a fic series that doesn't quite exist yet haha. "Garbageland" as my good friend Flywood and I so lovingly refer to it as, is a story concerning Goro Akechi and Ryuji Sakamoto suffering through the worst forced camping trip of their lives in a strange Metaverse world after falling through the ocean post Shido's palace collapsing. It's essentially a run-down and much more dangerous and deserted portion of the Metaverse where the debris of collapsed palaces and monstrous shadows far apart from those in the normal Metaverse lay and roam freely. This is a side story from it that we simply couldn't get out of our brains. If you enjoy this, you'll hopefully enjoy the much nicer main story when we finally start to release it.
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read this mess from our horrible little minds.

Shido's palace is just as desolate as it was the first time they explored it. Metal sits split and broken in sharp jagged edges where the walls have caved in on themselves, and even weeks later it still seems to be dripping with remnants of water and streams from its initial crash into the red desolate wasteland they reside in. It's a useless effort, Ryuji realizes this more or less, but they have to do something, unless they just wanna sit in their own misery and starve to death.

He doesn't give a fuck about what Akechi says, even if he might be right. They have to at least try, damn it.

But of course, he _is_ right. There's nothing here. Even if there was, they'd cleaned the place out as well as they could when they'd first found themselves in this nightmare of a hellscape. He's not really sure what he expected...

Even if they found food, they both know Metaverse food doesn't nourish the way actual food does. They've learned that well over the past while…

It’s a miserable reality in a place that feels like anything but.

Ryuji kicks another empty chest across the floor, letting it slide across the stained carpet and skidding to a halt halfway down the hallway. He's so frustrated he could scream, but he won't, not this time anyways. The last thing he wants is a horde of shadows mercilessly pushing their way up to them, and they’re definitely in no real shape to fight those fuckers off. The shadows are stronger down here, more animalistic and broken than anything they ever saw before in the Metaverse proper. They’ll rip them to shreds without even thinking about it, lacking any purpose other than just being bloodthirsty and insane. It’s not particularly at the top of his “ways I feel like dying” list, and he’s thrown a good few things on there since they fell down here.

He inhales deep and lets it out as slow as he can instead, one of the few anger management mechanisms he's managed to keep even after all this. He just wishes it was actually doing anything. Anything at all.

"I'm assuming that sound was because you didn't find anything, wasn't it?" he hears Akechi's overly haughty voice ask from across the foyer.

Talk about wanting to scream. That tone alone could actually send him into a psychotic rage over Akechi’s power any fucking day.

"The hell do you think, man?" he hisses. He tries to pretend he doesn't hear the chuckle bouncing off the walls afterwards, he's really not in the mood to beat the shit out of him right now. Not yet.

"It would seem I was right, then." he answers back, his voice looming closer as Ryuji hears him walk back into the main lobby area of the cruise ship's living quarters. He doesn't turn around to look at him yet, just keeps gripping his fists tighter, _tighter_ , desperately trying to release that tension and anger without spinning on his heel and wailing into the cocky fuck.

"This was a waste of time." Akechi continues, like Ryuji'd given him even remotely close to a hint that him continuing to blab is a good idea. "When are you going to get over yourself and realize this is hopeless. If we couldn't have used any of the sustenance from the banquet halls of the other palaces, why in the hell would we be able to use anything from this one?"

"Can you shut the hell up for like, two seconds?" Ryuji seethes, a hand pressing to his face like he's trying to hold back a volcanic eruption. "Not like we had any other damn options. If your stupid ass is that desperate to fucking starve you go right ahead, I'm at least gonna make a goddamn effort."

He hears Akechi scoff, the sound of the chest he’d just thrown away kicking open alongside it. "Quite an effort you've made for such little turnover, isn't it?"

"Listen!" Ryuji shouts, turning to Akechi and letting his voice jump across the halls. He winces, lowering his volume and praying to god no shadows were interested in the noise. "I'm getting sick and fuckin' tired of you, asshole. You didn't have to come, you decided to come up here with me, and if you're gonna keep being a huge piece of shit about it you're more than welcome to walk your ass out of here and leave."

Akechi shakes his head and clicks his tongue, "With the shadows we saw parading the entrance? I doubt either one of us would make it out of here alive on our own. It was a mercy for me to come along with you, you know."

"Do you ever stop talking?" he complains.

Akechi shrugs, "Perhaps one day I will, if you ever manage to find some tact, or better yet some common sense."

Ryuji rolls his eyes and kicks something else on the ground, for no other reason than to punt something; something other than Akechi. They're injured enough already, there's no point in adding to it. It's less resources for him to use if he has to patch him up.

"Just stop talking and look somewhere else if you're just gonna be annoying. Or better yet, go fuck yourself and get the stick out of your ass while you’re at it." he spits, "I'm gonna check over the rooms down the hall."

Akechi makes some noise like he's irritated, his usual eyeroll undoubtedly accompanying his dramatic ass. Ryuji couldn't care less, turning away from him before he gets an eye full of it and punches his goddamn lights out just for fun. His attitude's been such shit the past few days. Well, his attitude is always shit, but something about his behavior recently has really driven Ryuji up the goddamn wall. The last thing he needs is his shitty ass negative attitude, especially now when he's on the brink of an emotional breakdown himself. Akechi really can't let just himself be miserable can he, he has to drag others into the mix to make his stupid ass feel better.

What a fucking asshole.

He'll admit though that the past week it's felt... more hopeless than usual. They've been here so long now that their reserves are almost completely gone. Ryuji'd barely had enough food when he'd first fallen here as it was, but as they are now, they're barely scraping by. They've been trying to last days on mere sips of water and crumbs of what little bits of rations he has left over. They've gone as far as eating things that have nearly rotted over or gone completely stale just to survive.

The Metaverse doesn't have anything sustainable, not for real humans. Everything here is based on cognition, so it can make you feel like you're taking care of a physical need, when in reality you're fueling nothing and just starving yourself to death.

He hates to admit that he's eaten things from this world a couple times, just to make the pain go away for a little while. Placebo or whatever the hell it's called really packs a damn punch...

The longer the time here drags on though, and the longer he goes without food or water, he feels his temper getting shorter and shorter. He tries, he tries so hard not to feed into the bullshit he knows Akechi is trying to bait him with, but the longer they're stuck together the harder that is to do. 

He doesn't want to be here either, but a way out still hasn't appeared. But that doesn't mean they should give up just yet! At this point it's either they keep hunting for a better way to survive and hoping shadows drop supplies they can use, or just lay down and die. He knows which one Akechi would prefer but that's irrelevant. Unlike Akechi, he's not a fucking quitter.

He saunters along the hall a bit farther, the worn soles of his boots making gentle thuds and occasional squelches across the still soaked carpet of the cabin. His feet fucking hurt today, these shoes were never meant to be worn forever. He's never had the issue of them not being regenerated for days, weeks, however the hell long on end.

He just needs them to last, just a little longer... There's gonna be a way out, he just has to wait a bit—

A loud monstrous groaning noise breaches his ears and immediately chills him down to his bones.

He turns back. Akechi's still standing across the foyer, looking just as wide eyed as he is. _Fuck_ , it has to be a shadow, fuck fuck _fuck_ . This is _not_ a good place for one of those fuckers to find them

" _Shit._ " Ryuji whispers, his voice urgent. "We gotta hide!"

Akechi nods, running across the foyer as light footed as he can manage to make it to Ryuji's hallway. As much as he'd love to be about a billion meters away from him right now, splitting up around a shadow isn't ideal. They're too powerful and unpredictable to fight alone, the strength of their duo is almost entirely in numbers.

They both shoot farther down the hall, treading as lightly as they can as they hear the same groaning noise, louder, closer. Ryuji jiggles and pushes on door handles until he can find one that isn't caved in or too rusted and difficult to open without much noise, pushing it open as quickly and quietly as he can and all but yanking Akechi into the room behind him.

He can hear his shallowed breathing next to him as he tries to barricade the door. Cocky asshole talks so much about death but he's still scared of these things ripping him to shreds.

Well, maybe he can't argue. That wouldn't be his preferred way to die either, personally.

They don’t make a sound, not a bit until they hear the shadow come and go with it’s grotesque disgusting noises and footsteps that shake the floor they’re standing on. Ryuji only manages a small glimpse through the space between the door and the wall, watching it saunter and searching for nothing it can actually see as it drips vile excrement everywhere it moves. They’re repulsive and horrifying all at once in both sight and smell, and the last thing he wants to do is make contact with it any more than he already has to. They’ve fought these things more times than he ever would have liked, and it was a bad time every time.

These things don’t care about anything except tearing apart anything living they can find like paper, even themselves. If Ryuji was less of a good person he feels like he’d have thrown Akechi in front of them a couple of times throughout this awful camping trip they’ve shared.

He’d love to convince himself that he would never do that. Times have changed.

It feels like hours pass, but eventually the shadow does saunter away, both of them keeping their backs firmly against the wall until they’re one thousand percent certain that it’s made its trek far down the hallway. Ryuji exhales something that feels like relief, but his chest is still just as tight as ever. Losing your guard in a place like this is a good way to die real fast, and he’s not necessarily ready to let that happen just yet.

When he gets a second to finally take account of his surroundings, he can see that they’ve managed to wiggle their way into a safe room. It’s one they’ve searched before, almost undoubtedly, but at the very least if they’re in here the likelihood of them getting found by another shadow is far slimmer than it would be if they were still standing outside. Ryuji pulls in his lip, remembering that these rooms used to be so posh and elegant— it was in a way that made him want to heave of course, but in comparison to now he’d definitely take how gaudy it was over its current state any day. Now mold cakes the inside of the room, waterlogged cushions and carpets mixed with the musty smell only growing mildew can bring about. Furniture lays strewn across the room, a casualty from when the ship came crashing down from Shido’s cognition to wherever the hell they are now, but at the very least it’s still recognizable.

The sight of the bed, as unappealing as it looks, makes Ryuji weary. What he wouldn’t give to sleep in an actual bed again...

“I think we managed to lose ‘em.” he breathes out. It’s more a hopeful sentence than a fact, but he’s always been about speaking his thoughts into existence. He hears Akechi huff an affirmation, which is more than he needs or cares to hear. “We should probably get the hell out of here as soon as we can, though. The camp will be safer at this point.”

As long as it’s not been ravaged by shadows like it was last time. At least this time they were smart enough to bring everything with them.

Akechi hums behind him, “So, as per the usual, your expedition that you’ve insisted upon was nothing but a waste of time.”

Ryuji breathes out through his lips. No no _no_ , he’s not doing this again. He’s already well past his Akechi-bullshit-taking capacity, and he’s not about to let him break it apart anymore than he already has. So instead he ignores him, shaking off the cramp in his thigh from how awkwardly he was standing by the door and goes to push the double doors to the safe room back open again.

As he’s turning though, he sees something on the ground. Something unopened, standing out against the rest of the room.

There’s a bag on the floor, one of which the thieves routinely brought along with them on their palace excursions. Makoto usually insisted on them bringing extra supplies, not that he ever argued with it, and as cumbersome as they could be to bring along it never hurt for them to have more on hand than what Akira could carry himself. It wasn’t uncommon for them to be pretty helpful.

Most importantly though, they usually kept water or food in them. How the hell he missed it since the last time they were here he’ll never know for sure.

Ryuji sprints across the room to it, earning Akechi’s questioning hum as he makes a beeline for the cloth bag that he can only hope has _something_ inside of it that can make him feel a little less like he’s dying inside and out. His heart is beating faster than even when the shadow was lurking nearby, this could change literally _everything_.

He picks it up, ready to fling it open and dive his hands in, only for it to shoot up in his arm from overcompensation for its actual weight. The flap of it drops open, and with it the contents of the bag empty out onto the floor. Empty cracked water bottles, food scraps and wrappers, and only noticeable to him now are some distinct claw marks on the under belly of the bag.

No… no, it can’t be. He was _so close_ …

The dismay is intense and instant, enough to where his legs almost give out entirely and he just slumps down to the floor, dropping the bag from his hand defeatedly and staring down at the ground like he half expects it to swallow him whole. This isn’t _fair_. Nothing about this situation has been fair since the moment they quite literally fell into this world, but this is the absolute culmination of his luck completely running out.

They’re going to starve here. There’s nothing left.

He could cry. He hasn’t cried once since they got here, aside from getting close to being weepy those few times that he’s _really_ missed Akira, but right now the hopelessness is beginning to set in more than he thought imaginable. Truly at this point he feels like he’s ready to _break_.

Behind him, Akechi starts to _laugh_.

“You would think with how many times you’ve done this to yourself you would have learned by now, Skull.” he sneers. “I could see that look on your face from here. How does it feel, getting your hopes up so high over and over again only for them to come mercilessly crashing back down?”

No. _No_ . He’s not doing this, he _can’t_ do this. He knows what that asshole’s trying to do, but instigating a fight isn’t going to help either of them. They’re both hungry, they’re both tired, they’re both thirsty, and whether Akechi wants to accept it or not he knows that the pains from all of those things are starting to get to him too.

He has to keep calm, _stay calm,_ don’t let this fucking asshole get to you. Ryuji balls his fists, trying to keep them under control as they shake with a mind of their own.

“Don’t start crying over something so meaningless.” he chides, his tone almost haughty. “You should have known better. If we’ve been suffering this long what ever made you think that would change?”

“ _Shut up…_ ” Ryuji growls. It’s more like a plea, but Akechi doesn’t need to know that. Don’t keep pushing him, don’t make him angry…

This is how it’s been for days, and he knows he’s on the verge of complete collapse. The more they fail, the more he comes up short, the more Akechi’s enjoyed pouding it in that everything is hopeless. It’s not productive, and if anything it’s just _mean_ , but it’s exactly what he wants. To prove a point, to make Ryuji lose his sense of wit that he’s just _barely_ managed to scrape by with after all this time. It’s all he has left, and if he loses it now he has a feeling the ravenous animal in him will have no way of going back.

He doesn’t want to lose control, he _can’t_ prove him right. He balls his fists tighter.

“It’s sad to watch honestly.” Akechi continues, far from getting the hint. “The very least you could do is roll over and die with some dignity. And instead you continue to press on fruitlessly, just like the mindless ownerless ape you’ve become. Akira would be ashamed.”

_That’s it_.

Thoughts have no meaning anymore as Ryuji rips himself from the floor, sprinting and lunging and punching Akechi square in the jaw so hard his teeth crack against each other on impact. Without skipping a beat Akechi _cackles_ at him, his face turning into the feral crazed one Ryuji’s come to know so well and lunges right back, kneeing at his gut and clocking him in the face as a return gift. Ryuji grabs his hands back and holds his wrists with all he has as Akechi tries to yank them back, seething as Akechi practically howls laughing in his face.

“It took you fucking long enough.” Akechi snarls, the calm well kept version of himself completely out the window more than ever before. “I was getting tired of your ‘keep calm’ bullshit. _This_ is a lot more fun!”

Ryuji _yells_ , shoving him back and letting him go long enough to sock him in his face again. Akechi answers back with one of his own, blocking a kick Ryuji aims for his gut and attempting one right back. Every blow Ryuji hands him, Akechi offers it right back to him, laughing at every turn like this is a fucking _game_. He’s sore in seconds, agitating cuts and bruises that have already been well worn from their stay in this hellscape, adding to the casualties across skin and limbs.

This isn’t helping fucking anything. He could not possibly give less of a shit.

Ryuji pushes him into the wall, wedging him into a corner so he can wail on him more properly, the way he wants to, _needs to_. This has been a long time fucking coming and holding back is the furthest thing from his mind. He throws another punch right at Akechi’s mouth and he manages to catch it in his hand. He tries again with his other and Akechi does the same, holding him there and smiling with a crazed look in his eyes Ryuji hasn’t seen since the last time they were in this palace properly.

God why the fuck didn’t he die there? Ryuji’s about ready to make sure he does.

“You truly are absolutely pathetic.” Akechi tells him with a sneer. “What the hell do you think you’ll accomplish like this? You’re a mess, being swayed in every little way by your barely kept emotions. How the fuck did any of your pathetic little teammates deal with you when you act like nothing but a ravenous dog looking for scraps and attention?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Ryuji yells back. “I never fucking _asked_ you. I’ve been trying to get us the fuck out of here, trying and doing whatever the fuck I can to survive, and you’ve been doing nothing but being an _asshole!_ ” He tries to pull his hands back but Akechi’s grip is strong enough to keep them in place. “I’m tired of your fucking mind games, if you want to go fuck off and die be my fucking guest, but leave me the fuck out of it!”

“You won’t leave me though.” Akechi says, smugly, _knowingly_ . “Because you’re afraid. Because you’re so pathetically tuned into your conscience that you can’t bear to see anyone else suffer alongside you. If you’d wanted to let me die you would have _let me_ from the very beginning.”

Maybe he’s right. He could have. Maybe even _should_ have. He remembers finding him that first day half drowned and barely even alive, and instead of just leaving him to die he slapped him awake and picked him up like some kind of toddler. He can regret that every day of his life, but he knows back then there wasn’t a choice. He _knows_ he never could have just left him there to suffer, even if it was _Akechi_ of all people.

He growls. “Just because I give a shit about more people than just myself like _some_ asshole I know doesn’t make me fucking pathetic.” Ryuji seethes.

“Does it not?” he presses, his face going all innocent for a split second before it doesn’t, turning into something incredibly avaricious. “I have reason to argue against that, would you like to know why?”

Before Ryuji gets a chance to say anything, Akechi jams his head up, smashing his lips right into Ryuji’s in some _ugly_ mockery of a kiss. It’s hard enough for their teeth to clack, hard enough to bleed.

Ryuji reels back almost instantly, shouting and getting his hands back to cover over his mouth like he’s just been burnt.

“What the _FUCK!_ ”

Akechi just stands there in front of him, twisted and looking at him almost _hauntingly_ . There’s some smug satisfaction on his face, the kind that Ryuji would punch right off in a fucking heartbeat if he wasn’t so completely frozen in shock. What the ever loving _fuck_ is he **_doing??_ **

“Was that your first kiss, _Ryuji?”_ he asks, hissing the end of his name. “Because it was mine too.”

Ryuji just _stares._ Stares ahead at this completely manic jackass as he smiles like he’s just won the lottery. He doesn’t even know what to say to that, what to feel.

“ _That’s_ how pathetic you are,” he continues out of nowhere, looking almost proud as if he’s so smart for deducing it, “because I can _see_ how angry that made you. Why is that exactly? Were you saving that? Were you hoping it would be given to someone you cared about? Someone you _love?"_

No… he’s angry. _So_ angry… Akechi couldn’t have known something like that, _shouldn’t have_ …

"Pathetic,” he laughs, “That even when certain doom is sitting in front of you, you're still brazen enough to feel like you need something so pointless.” He places a hand on his hip and shakes his head, “Besides, is it so bad? It wouldn't have worked out, because I have a feeling you and I would have wanted that to belong to a particular person, someone we know all too well.”

“Y-You bastard…” he whispers, fingers squeezing his face and heart _racing_ . “You _bastard…!_ ”

"At least we may share that in solidarity. We never had a chance."

There’s no part of Ryuji that isn’t rage. He’s honest to god been trying, trying _so_ hard. He wanted to make it back, to his friends, to his family, to… to Akira… He’d hoped and worked hard and even fucking _prayed_ since minute one, since _second_ one, doing everything he possibly could to get back to them, to him. And Akechi’s done everything in his power to make that seem more hopeless than ever, and took something right along with it. Something sentimental that he _had_ been saving, one of the small things to keep the flame of hope still alive and burning in his chest.

He’s breathing so hard through his hands, hard enough to where it’s all he can hear. He wants to kill him. He wants to _kill him_ , no matter how much his conscience screams it's not right. But he's taken everything from him, every little piece that’s gotten him this far and kept him ready to fight through another day. Akechi's put him in a corner and he knows it, and he's just standing there debating how long it will take for him to bash his skull in so hard he'll go blind.

But that’s what Akechi wants. It’s what he wanted since this started. If Ryuji loses complete control of himself and kills him, not only does Akechi _get_ exactly what he wants, but Ryuji also comes out no better than him. But _god_ he wants to do it so bad.

He wants him to hurt. For him to hurt even a shred as bad as he is right now.

He wants to _break him_ and crunch all the tiny leftover pieces.

To give him a taste of his own medicine…

He lifts his hands off his mouth.

“Fine…” he more breathes than says, stepping back over towards Akechi. He sees Akechi smile, his hands going back up defensively ready to receive another smackdown, but Ryuji has no intention of doing that. Instead his hand slams against the wall beside Akechi’s head, making his eyes go wide in sudden confusion.

“If that’s how you wanna play, _we’ll play_.”

And he kisses him right back.

It’s not a nice kiss, and it’s not without a struggle. Akechi fights back immediately, trying to get his grip onto Ryuji and throw him off, but Ryuji won’t let him. He bears down, bites into his mouth, clacking teeth and splitting skin. His hand shifts to the back of Akechi’s neck, gripping him so tight that hairs pull out of his head and he feels his breath shallow. He tastes like blood and vemon and Ryuji could not care less.

Akechi pushes back again to no avail, and then bites Ryuji, _hard_ , right in the corner of his mouth. It gets Ryuji off him only long enough for Akechi to hiss, “What the _fuck_ are you _doing!?_ ”

“Giving you exactly what you wanted you piece of shit.” he snarls, before pushing right back down onto his unwilling mouth.

It’s a different fight, one Ryuji knows Akechi didn’t expect. He thinks he’s useless with no one to tell him what to do anymore, but what he doesn’t seem to learn is that the more you poke at a trained animal, the more likely you are to make it attack. But if Ryuji knows anything about Akechi, it’s that he doesn’t take a challenge lying down. He won’t give up until he absolutely _has to_.

So it doesn’t surprise Ryuji one damn bit when he feels Akechi start to kiss back.

It’s more of a painful mess of blood, teeth, and skin than it is anything intimate, but their mouths are still connected, hungry and desperate. Akechi suddenly clings back to him, deepening their kiss and forcing the taste of iron into Ryuji’s mouth as his clawed gloves dig directly into the meat of his shoulder. Ryuji can’t hold back the shout that leaves him and Akechi takes the opportunity to chomp into his tongue. Ryuji yanks his hair in response and bites Akechi’s tongue right back.

He makes a noise from that, some mix of pain and something else, just before he stomps into Ryuji’s foot with the heel end of his boot and shoves him backwards. Ryuji loses his footing for only a second before the back of his legs hit something behind him, plush and wet.

Oh _hell fucking no_.

If Akechi thinks he’s about to gain the upperhand in this fight he is dead fucking wrong.

Without missing a beat, Ryuji swipes his leg into Akechi’s. Almost instantly he loses his balance and Ryuji grabs him by his shoulders, flinging him around to where their positions are switched and slamming him backwards into the mattress he’d nearly fallen into.

There’s nothing romantic about the way Ryuji falls directly on top of him onto the disgustingly waterlogged bedding. There’s nothing sensual about how he grips him so tightly he’s sure he could break his spine in half. Nothing caring about how he feels Akechi underneath him, yelling and snarling and clawing his fingers into the already torn parts of his suit, shredding the fabric away—

Ah. So this is where it’s going.

Ryuji follows suit whether he really wants to or not. He kisses Akechi so he can’t talk, bruising into his lips as his hands ravage around him too, ripping apart shreds of blue and purple stripes to reveal pale skin blotched in blacks, reds, and blues. They’ve taken quite a few beatings in the past few days and definitely haven’t had the resources or strength to take care of them— neither of them are healers after all. Ryuji feeds into them though, pressing his hand hard against them just to make Akechi squirm against his mouth. He yells and responds by explicitly scratching against his stomach, leaving lines of red that Ryuji can already feel leaking across his ribs.

Oh, if he wants to be like that, Ryuji can be like that too.

WIthout even looking Ryuji grabs one of Akechi’s hands, taking his fingers and forcing them down onto his lower half, shredding apart fabric and belts that were barely holding onto his body with his own claws and making him whimper in pain just before he gets his hand back and digs it into Ryuji’s back. It _stings_ , but not enough to take away from the satisfaction of Akechi’s crazed anger he can see swimming in his eyes just before he reaches over and rips the glove off of his hand, chucking it off to the side of the room for it to land who knows where..

Before either of them realize it, they’re both more or less naked in front of each other, surrounded by mildewed bedding and scraps of what used to be their Metaverse clothing. More noticeable than that, Akechi’s fucking _hard_.

What a disgusting asshole.

“You’re gross as fuck.” Ryuji tells him, not an ounce of affection in his tone. “Something like this really gettin’ your rocks off? What kind of fuckin’ pervert are you?”

“Shut the fuck up!” he seethes underneath him. “Who the fuck are you to tell me that? Have you seen yourself lately?”

Ryuji doesn’t need him to tell him that. He can feel what his own fucking body’s doing, he just knows that Akechi actually gives half a fuck about it.

Akechi looks up at him with fire in his eyes. “What do you intend to do with this then, you ape? Are you going to kill me? Rip me to shreds while I’m this vulnerable? I never would have thought you’d be that much of a coward.”

Ryuji shakes his head. He doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing here, but the mantra of _hurt hurt HURT_ dances in his mind like a ballet, urging him forward. Besides, that’s exactly what Akechi _wants_ him to do, and like hell is he about to give him that satisfaction.

“That’s too easy,” he finally supplies, shifting and grabbing at Akechi’s wrist to pin it before his hand moves up to smack at him again. “The fact that you think I’m that boring is kind of insulting.”

“Then what are you planning here?” he presses again, decidedly more pissy this time than the first. “What are you going to do, fuck me like the disgusting mindless animal you are? Are you really that desperate for Akira that you’re fine to take any replacement you can get your nasty hands on?”

Ryuji _bites him_ , hard enough in the neck that Akechi yelps. “Keep his fucking name out of your _mouth_.” he growls into his skin.

“Or what?” Akechi challenges, locking his jaw hard enough to where Ryuji can feel it against his skin. “What the fuck are you going to do to me, Ryuji? Do you even know? Do you have the balls for it?”

Does he? Well, Akechi’s about to fucking find out.

Ryuji grabs Akechi’s other wrist with his hand, throwing them both together as he bats his hand around the mattress for something he knows is there. He’s kept at least one healing ointment tucked away in one of his pockets for extreme emergencies, one that even Akechi didn’t know about. He’d planned to only use it out of absolute desperation, and even then if Akechi had ever stopped being such a prick he might have shared if he needed it. _Now_ though, oh, he’ll share it alright.

When he finds it he pops the plastic top of it open and Akechi’s eyes go wide. He doesn’t let him say a fucking word before he shoves his legs apart and forces his fingers right between them.

The face Akechi makes is intense. There’s something about the twist of pleasure and absolute disgust that rips right through Ryuji’s nerves and fuels him along. He’s admittedly never done something like this before, and never in his fucking life would he have thought that someone like Goro Akechi would be the one he’d do it to, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He ignores the bile he can feel wanting to shoot up his throat and keeps working his fingers, in and out and back and forth.

He doesn’t really give much of a shit if Akechi gets hurt from this or not, it’s more for him than anything at this point. He doesn’t necessarily want Akechi’s blood all over him more than it already is.

Akechi grits his teeth as Ryuji works through him, completely ignoring the noises he makes or how he reacts and just focusing on keeping his wrists still, and more importantly his ultimate goal. He’s going to _break_ him. He’s going to take something from him that he can’t get back either, and he doesn’t give one shit about whether he likes it or not.

He doesn’t need to wonder though, because Akechi’s mouth starts moving despite how much he wishes it wouldn’t.

“I’m surprised at how good you are at this, Ryuji.” he says, his voice pleasant but with that tinge of viciousness he can never quite seem to misplace. “You wanted to be, didn’t you? You wanted Akira _ha—!_ ...to love and praise you for this, to _writhe_ underneath you... and instead you get to put it to work on someone you wish were dead. How funny that life works this way...”

Ryuji growls and pushes his fingers in deeper, retching some noise from Akechi’s throat. He still smiles up at him anyways, however strained it might be. “Go on, tell me how much you wish this was Akira. Tell me _ha—!_ … T-tell me about how much you wish you could fuck into him, take his breath away, make him _scream,_ tell me, _tell me…!_ ”

**_Shut up._ **

Ryuji bends back down and kisses him hard, enough to halt his lips and feel the moan that escapes him as he yanks his fingers out. He doesn’t care anymore, he just wants him to shut up shut up _shut up_ . And he will shut him the fuck up till he can’t anymore, till he’s _sure_ he doesn’t have another fucking word to say.

And he’ll keep doing that as he lines himself up and sheathes himself to the root inside of him mercilessly, swallowing the scream Akechi makes.

The pace he starts up is relentless and awful, exhausting him immediately but not enough to where he’ll stop. He doesn’t take his mouth off of Akechi’s, feeling every catch of breath that gets stuck between them and every noise he makes spilling into his mouth. Good, he doesn’t care, shut the fuck up and take this, deal with it, _this is what you fucking asked for_.

Because he does wish this was Akira, every little bit of it. He wishes so deeply that it could be Akira that he was trapped with. Akira that would have kept his spirits up high even in the worst of the fight, would have supported him all along the way and given him hope that he feels like he’s lost in spurts throughout this awful journey. He wishes that he could have fought with Akira, suffered with Akira, held his hand tight even in the worst of the adversity they were facing and just know that everything would be okay.

But like this, nothing is okay. Here he’s nearly lost his sense of self, being instigated and prodded over and over and over again until he’s nothing but a frothing rabid dog ready to attack. Akira would have kept him grounded. Akira would have been his shoulder to cry on. Akira would have been everything he needed and more, and even if they didn’t have a chance at surviving at least they’d have been there, together, like always. With Akira, Akira, Akira…

Everything suddenly starts to feel good…

For the first time in what’s felt like years since they fell down here, he feels something again, something more than the pain and despair that’s eaten so much of him and spit him right back out. There’s something pooling in his gut, something that feels less like hunger and more like pleasure, warming him from his head to his toes, making him desperately want more.

Suddenly his surroundings are so much less grim. Suddenly he’s warm again, surrounded in the comfort of familiarity, a wooden room that smells like coffee and curry and _home_. A place he’s known well, full of pieces of himself that he’s left here and there because he knew they’d be in a safe place.

Underneath him his vision morphs. The figure he’s with becomes unrecognizable before it isn’t, before it’s Akira’s smiling face with smouldering grey eyes staring up at him, drinking in everything he is and taking so much more with one single look. Like instant clockwork Ryuji falls into him, letting himself be embraced, releasing his wrists and letting Akira’s arms wrap around his neck as he kisses him into the pillows underneath his head. He smells like shampoo and tastes like the potato chips they’d been munching on what must have been mere minutes ago, the salt flecking against his tongue as he takes him in.

The way Akira breathes and moans is a symphony to his ears, one he’s only been able to dream of hearing. He slows down, driving into him slower and deeper to draw them out of his lips a little longer, a little more, and the effect they have on him is immense as he keeps moving, shuddering all the way through his spine and letting that heat build inside him, working higher and higher.

His hands roam. He touches Akira all over like he’s starved, like it’s the only thing that’ll keep him alive, and Akira touches him right back. His hands feel good sliding across his skin, heated and soft in a way he hasn’t felt in so long. It’s addicting, both feeling his touch and _getting_ to touch, and he wonders to himself why the hell it’s taken them so long to do this, for him to get to do this the way he’s wanted to so desperately.

He loves him, he knows this. He loves him so deeply with every ounce of blood in his veins and regrets never telling him every day of his life. Even this isn’t enough for him to know though, even as much as he’s giving him now will never truly convey how he feels.

He kisses him deeply again, pushing in slow and _deep_ to wring out another of Akira’s soft beautiful noises. His mouth hovers over him, hopeful to have those sweet notes shoot through his system again. Akira breathes out to speak.

“ _A-Akira_ …”

Akira moans his own name.

The illusion shatters.

In an instant it’s not Akira there anymore. The sweet smell of coffee is gone, replaced with nothing but mildew, sweat, and blood, and Ryuji barely has to blink to know who’s back underneath him, moaning the name of who he’d just been kissing like it’s a prayer.

The fantasy is over, just like Ryuji’s patience. If he can’t have it, neither can Akechi…

He drives into him manically.

The illusion must break for Akechi too, because his eyes shoot wide open, and then almost immediately he screams. It’s not a pleased one, it’s strangled and _pained_ , some underlying wish for death skating along its edges and pushing Ryuji further into his crazed anger. No more, he’s done, he’s _done_.

Akechi screams longer, louder, _more desperate_ , the more Ryuji speeds up and pushes and drives him over the edge. His nails dig into Ryuji’s back, some mix between holding on for dear life and trying to get him to slow down, or even stop. He won’t though, not anymore. The thread holding him back has long since snapped and there’s nothing to keep him tethered anymore.

He doesn’t know when Akechi comes, but he does. He can feel it between their stomachs and hear it in his strangled voice and he shudders into pieces underneath him. He can’t stop yet though, fucking his oversensitive body into the mattress as he cries and pleads with him in words he can’t hear or comprehend. It feels too good to stop. It’s the only good feeling he’s had in _so long_ and Akechi can’t and won’t take this away from him. Not again. Not _ever_ again…!

It hits him like a freight train, and even then he doesn’t stop. Akechi wails below him as he works himself through it, pushing in again and again and again until he feels the last leg of his energy sapping from him completely. Even then he pushes to the point of complete exhaustion, only stopping when he quite literally can’t hold himself up any longer, dropping himself unceremoniously on top of Akechi’s shaking form.

The room goes deathly still and quiet for the first time since they’d walked in. It takes a few moments, but Ryuji begins to realize that he doesn’t feel even one tiny ounce of the pleasure that he’d been feeling just a moment ago.

It’s really weird, at first. He’s never had an orgasm before that’s completely sucked him dry like this. Every time before this has been on his own, of course, but at the very least it’s eased him over, relaxing his muscles and bringing about some sense of peace within him that he didn’t have earlier. With this… there’s nothing. Nothing there at all, and it’s a horrendously empty feeling.

He can hear Akechi breathing by his ear, and he can’t tell what’s accompanying it but there’s some whining noise escaping his mouth. Ryuji doesn’t want it there though, he doesn’t want to hear _anything_. He tries in vain to move his arm up to cover his mouth and smother the sound, but to no avail. His muscles have more or less given out in their entirety.

He suffices for tilting his chin up and covering his mouth with his own. It doesn’t bother him at all even when he feels like it should, even as the despair slowly starts to settle around him. This is becoming the very least of his worries.

He stays there until Akechi stops.

There’s nothing good about this. When you do something like this, you’re supposed to feel good, aren’t you? There’s supposed to be butterflies dancing in your stomach, flushed skin and gentle hands and soothing kisses to bring you both back to reality. WIth this, everything just _hurts_ , taking away every ounce of the pleasure and leaving nothing but the empty cavern that’s become his mind, and his heart. He feels nothing but betrayal, failure, _disgust_ . Absolutely fucking _disgusting_.

And he’ll never forgive himself for willing Akira there, for using Akechi to even _imagine_ such a thing…

Akechi does eventually calm down beneath him, his breathing evening out even when it catches itself in gulps here and there. Neither one of them say a word. The headspace they share is equally fucked to hell and back at this point, but it’s truly the only thing keeping them at their mutual last shred of sanity before they fall over into heaps of anguish.

They’re trapped in darkness, unable to breathe and without any hope for escape. It’s like they’re underneath a blanket in a house fire, suffocating from smoke as the flames lick closer and closer still, covering the fabric and burning them alive. It’s only there to barely halt the inevitable, hiding the sight from them as if they don’t know it’s there.

There’s nothing to really say. He doesn’t _want_ to say anything. He just wants to completely disappear, left without a trace.

He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He’s finally lost his will to live that he’s guarded so closely...

...but Akechi starts the conversation for him…

"Ryuji..." he says, just as he wheezes once, his voice gravely and strained.

…

Ryuji's eyes close.

"I know..."

He pushes himself off and out of Akechi, feeling more than seeing him shudder from the sudden loss. It hurts, everything hurts so bad but what the hell does it matter anymore? He hears Akechi shiver through his teeth as he gets up from the bed and paces around the floor nearby. His hands push past scraps of fabric and leather to find what he's looking for.

When he grabs at the gun amongst Akechi’s shredded belts, it's heavy and cold in his calloused hand.

"I'll take care of it, Goro."

He lays back down a moment later, sidling up next to Akechi instead of on top of him to where they’re facing one another. Akechi doesn’t even look at him. His eyes are closed, quiet and serene as he breathes in through his nose and doesn’t make a sound. His skin is still flushed, battling against all his cuts and bruises and making him look that much more weak and helpless. Something in Ryuji brings him to pull up his hand, placing it at the line of Akechi’s jaw and playing with the ends of hair squished between his head and the pillow he’s laying on. It’s softer than he expected it to be, even underneath all the dirt, sweat, and grime they’ve been drowning in.

It hardly matters, they’re drowning in so much more now.

Ryuji raises the gun with his other hand, pressing it gently to Akechi’s temple. He doesn’t make a sound of protest, doesn’t even open his eyes to look at Ryuji, and instantly he knows this is what they both want, what they _need_. There’s no chance for survival anymore, no chance for them to feel something other than pain ever again. There’s nothing to keep them going in this miserable hell they’ve been scrounging through. Nothing but the emptiness they feel not only in their stomachs, but their souls. 

They’ve reached the end of the road.

Ryuji pushes himself close enough to where their chests line up, feeling Akechi’s heartbeat, waiting for it to speed up or catch from fear. It never does.

He leans forward and gently kisses his forehead without even thinking, and then pulls the trigger.

Akechi’s heart stops. His face doesn’t look any less at peace even as crimson slowly streams down to the bridge of his nose.

With a sigh of relief, Ryuji turns the gun around towards himself, and pulls the trigger again.


End file.
